From Plotting Each Other's Murders To PDA
by idkgirl27
Summary: When Kyle gets sick Cartman decides to have some fun, thinking that his 'willpower' can keep him safe. Turns out... it doesn't. Kyman/Cartyle


I feel like shit right now, even shitter than Mr. Hankey the Motherfucking Christmas Poo and he literally is a piece of a shit.

I fucking hate being sick.

I'm lying in my bed with just my boxers on. I keep putting my blanket off, then throwing it off, only to put it back on again because my body can't decide if it's too cold or too hot.

The sweat that drenches my body is accompanied by my constant shivering.

My nose is dripping and I feel like puking my guts out, even though I haven't ate a single thing all day.

Goddamnit.

I'm pretty sure that I'm going to die…

_Okay,_ I'm probably not going to die but still I'm not feeling very alive at the moment.

I hear someone at the door and I'm pretty sure that it's just my mom making sure that I'm still breathing and that I don't need anything.

I know what I need, I need to get better.

The door opens before I can tell the person to go away and let me rot in peace. I turn my head a little too quickly and I'm punished with an instant migraine.

The person at the door is either going to make my day or make me cry. Literally, I feel that shitty.

"Hey, jew. How you holding up?"

I shut my eyes tightly and pray that when I open them that it was only a voice and not my asshole boyfriend.

I don't hate him or anything it's just that he likes getting me all worked up and I don't have the energy to deal with that right now.

Oh, yeah. If you haven't figured it out by now my 'asshole boyfriend' is Cartman.

How the two of us ended up together I'll never completely understand. One day we went from plotting each other's murder to PDA. It's weird to think about but honestly I wouldn't want it any other way.

I love him so fucking much it hurts sometimes and I can only take satisfaction in knowing that he feels the same way.

Unfortunately, or fortunately, I'm still not sure if his presence will be a good thing right now, when I open my eyes he's still here. He's closed the door and is standing at my bed.

"Damn, babe. You're burning up."

I take swipe at my forehead, which is practically covered with sweat, and it's so fucking gross, "Ugh. I know."

He smirks, never a good sigh, "Yeah, you're **_so_** fucking hot, laying there practically naked…."

I look down at myself. At the moment the blanket is off and my boxers have ridden up, revealing more of my legs than I'd like to be showing. If my face wasn't already red from being sick then it'd be from my blushing.

Cartman's seen me naked before (and no I am **NOT **giving you the details though I'm sure it'd be easy to guess since we're two teenagers in love) so I'm not exactly embarrassed or anything. It's just that I don't exactly feel like being sexed up in my current condition.

I groan a little before lifting the blanket up to my chin. It's still fucking hot but covering up is the best way to protect yourself from eye rape. I drape my arm over my eyes, the lights are so fucking bright considering that my room has been blocked off from anything that glows, except for an old night light, that my mom insists I use.

"Aw, now why'd you have to cut me off? I was enjoying the view…"

I don't bother looking up and almost don't bother responding but I know that this fucker will only get more obnoxious if I try to ignore him.

"I don't really feel like getting sexually harassed while I'm lying on my death bed."

"Hey, don't say stuff like that…" I move my arm to watch him as he sits down on the edge of my bed and begin to run his fingers through my hair, if he's trying to get it in order then that's just fucking hilarious.

My hair has always been a bitch and it's not going to stop anytime soon, especially while it's drenched in sweat.

His fingers get caught in my curls and the pain almost makes me cry. I bite down on my lip and only a whimper escapes. I'm usually not such a wimp but right now my whole body is sensitive.

He hears the weak sound that I make and instead moves to caress my cheek. I'm sorta surprised that he didn't pull my hair again just to be a jerk but I'm not going to question him on that. I sigh and lean into the touch and can feel myself drifting off to sleep. That sounds _soooo_ good right now. I haven't had any decent sleep since I've gotten sick and I've already been this way for a few days.

Of course right when I'm about to really fall asleep his fucking voice brings me back.

"I'm getting pretty tired of this shit. So hurry up and get better already, jew."

If I wasn't feeling so horrible I'd have kicked his ass for being so insensitive. It's not like I want to be fucking sick! But when I look up to his face I can see that he's worried. Even now that we're together he still has trouble being honest with me. But I think I like it like that. We both do.

I mean we both love each other and shit but being all lovey-dovey isn't really our style. Yes, we kiss but we still love having pointless arguments over nothing. That's what I love about our relationship. I fucking love a challenge and there's no bigger challenge than Eric fucking Cartman.

I try giving him a smirk but I doubt I have enough energy for it to work, "Fuck off. I'll get better on my own time."

He returns my failed smirk with one of his own. Damn, I love that look. "Well, if you decide to stop being all sickly I might just reward you…."

He climbs on top of me, not putting his weight down, thankfully, but just looming over.

Crap.

I'm actually enjoying this and by 'enjoying' I mean that I'm pitching a tent.

The look on his face tells me that he knows what he's doing to me and that ever-growing smirk tells me that he plans on using this to his advantage.

He tries to pull my blanket off and I somehow summon enough strength to stop him.

"I'm not in the mood right now."

He laughs and lowers his hand to rub my erection, I can't help but moan under his touch, "Your reaction tells me differently…"

The frustrating thing is that he's right. I do want him, I want him so fucking bad. If it wasn't for my current state of health we'd both be even more undressed than I am and we'd be doing things, **amazing** things.

The thoughts running through my head aren't helping in my attempt to get my dick to calm down.

I need to convince him, and myself, that sex isn't a good idea right now.

"My mom…. She could walk in on us…"

Cartman's lips meet my ear, "We're home alone. She left as soon as I got here."

He starts sucking on my earlobe and my mind is trying **not** to enjoy this, which so far isn't working, "I don't have lube…"

I'm so caught up in my inner struggle that I don't notice as he finally moves the blanket off enough giving him access to my chest. He pinches my nipples and I let out a shaky breath, "I've got that covered. I never leave the house without it. You know that."

He's sucking on them now and I'm pretty to close to just giving in, "You… you could… ah… you could get s-sick…"

He kisses my throat and bites down lightly before sucking at it, "I don't get sick. I'm not a pussy."

Cartman raises his head and his eyes meet mine. I don't know how to explain but every time we make contact it's like electricity. It's the best fucking feeling. Whether it's just talking (more like arguing), eye contact (glaring), physical (well… like how we are right now)… damn, I love him.

"I'm… I'm not a pussy…"

Our lips met for a quick second, "Yeah, you are."

I might be sick and I might be horny but that doesn't mean that I'm just going to let him insult me.

When he leans in for another kiss I block his lips with my hand, "No, I'm not. The fact that I get sick just makes me human. Everyone gets sick and you're a fucking liar if you say otherwise!"

He lifts his head up, his eyes narrowing slightly.

It's battle time and I'm going to win.

"Don't call me a liar. It's true I don't get sick and I'm especially not going to catch some faggy jew disease."

"I don't have any 'faggy, jew' diseases and even if I did you would have caught them by now."

"No, I wouldn't. There's a reason I don't get sick. It's called willpower! You should get some, jew."

I laugh at his stupidity, forgetting to cover my mouth but after having his tongue down my throat I doubt he's safe. "Willpower? Really?! Don't be such a dumbass, Cartman."

"I'm not a dumbass, you asshole! And willpower is _totally _a real thing! Not that you'd know anything about it being such a slut…"

His hand moves under my blanket and I know where he's heading. He's trying to prove a point…. But I won't let him.

I push back his hand and sit up, crossing my arms over my chest. Strangely all this fighting and, _ahem, _'physical contact' has seemed to relieved me of my illness, energizing me and bringing me further from death. "I'm not a slut, I'm not a pussy, and now I'm not letting you touch me."

His face softens and his hand moves to my cheek. It's all part of his strategy and I'll let him do that much but I'm not giving in.

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry."

I told myself that I'd hold my ground but somehow his lips are back on mine and I'm melting.

Damnit.

With our lips pressed so tightly to each other's he probably doesn't think that I'll hear him but I do and I'm not happy.

"Just more proof of your lack of willpower…."

I push him off of me, his fat, though I have to admit sexy, ass nearly falls to the floor.

"That's it. You need to go."

He pouts and again I feel like giving in but that would mean he won and I'm not about to lose to him. Not now, not ever.

I lay back down on my bed and pull the blanket over me. Cartman slowly stands up, realizing that he's not going to get lucky tonight.

It's not that I want to turn him down, even if I do enjoy giving him blue balls sometimes, but I know that sex has to wait until my immune system starts doing its job.

Damn immune system. What's taking so long?

Cartman straightens out his coat and looks at me with a frown, "Well, I guess I'll just go then."

And if that overdramatic asshole thinks he's leaving just like that, well, then he has another thing coming.

I grab onto his wrist and summon all the power I have yanking him towards me, which is hard enough without me being sick considering he's twice my size.

I can see his eyes fill with hope, "Did you change your mind?"

I cup his face and lift myself up and he meets me halfway. I pull away before he can push his tongue through. "You forgot your goodbye kiss, dumbass.

He sighs and I enjoy my victory before putting my lips to his ear, "Maybe, once I get better, we can try some of that stuff you were showing me…."

He doesn't need to be reminded of what I'm talking about. A few days ago, before I got sick, he was showing me some of his favorite pornos and was asking if I'd be willing to try any of it with me. Even though it was hot I had told him no. (I'm pretty sure I was just mad at him for some reason)

He practically leaps up and questions me with his eyes just to make sure of what I told. I nod and he gives me a quick kiss.

"Well I guess I should let you rest then."

Another nod and kiss and he's finally gone.

I try my best to focus on the sounds of his feet leaving me, until the distance between me and them make it impossible.

I automatically feel shitty again. As gay and cliché as it sounds Cartman really was making me feel better.

Oh, well.

Now I have another reason to get better….

Cartman.

**-2 Days Later-**

Oh, this is fucking great. I can't wait to see that dumbass.

I finally got better today and when I tried calling Cartman his mom answered the phone and told me all about it.

I warned him, I fucking warned him but of course he didn't listen.

I'm standing outside his bedroom door thinking of what I'll do once I see him.

I'll laugh. That's what I'll do.

I open the door slowly, closing it behind me, as I walk in.

There laying on his bed is Eric 'The (Supposedly) Invincible' Cartman looking exactly how I did a few days ago.

"So much for willpower, huh?"

He looks up slowly with his eyes narrowed, "Leave me the fuck alone."

I laugh and walk to his bedside, "I hate to say I told you so but…."

"Don't you fucking say it."

"I told you so."

He flips me off and pulls the blanket over his head but since it's my turn to be a jerk today I just yank it back off of him.

"What do you want, asshole?!"

I lean in close and bat my eyes, "I want you to fuck me."

He groans, looking me up and down before closing his eyes, "I…I'm too sick for that…. Damnit! Why'd you have to wear those pants today?!"

In my quest to piss off Cartman I chose my outfit carefully. I'm not sure what's so special about these jeans because that's all they are but Cartman has told me plenty of times what these jeans make him want to do to me.

I smile at the thought and decide to tease him some more. I turn to give him a side view of me and I stick out my ass, I look down at him pouting, "What's wrong with these pants? You don't like them?"

His eyes are full of desperation but before he can say anything he breaks into a coughing fit.

I was only trying to give him a taste of his own medicine but I stop the act and sit in the bed next to him, "You okay, Eric?"

He stops coughing and looks up to me with rosy cheeks, "Don't… don't call me that…"

Cartman has a problem with me using his first name. He says that it makes him nervous so I try not to use it, unless, of course, I can use it to my advantage.

I look at him closely and only then do I realize how bad he looks, probably as bad as I had when I was sick. It nearly breaks my heart, seeing him like this and not being able to do anything about it. He's feeling horrible, I know it, but I there's nothing we can do. He'll just have to rest and wait it out.

"I'm sorry. Can I get you something?"

He coughs a little but shakes his head, "No. Well… can you just lay down with me?"

I don't even think about all of my hygiene rules that I'm breaking. I crawl under the sheets with him and we both wrap our arms around each other as he buries his head into my chest. Usually the roles are switched but I don't mind. He shivers slightly and I rub his back to try and comfort him. His back is slicked with sweat and usually I hate body fluids of any kind but for him I'll put up with it.

He stops shivering and he yawns, mumbling into my chest.

"Told you that you can't resist touching me…. lack of….. willpower…."

I roll my eyes but he's already snoring and I start feeling sleepy as well.

Cartman can be a real dumbass sometimes (or more like all the time) but he's my….

Wait.

You know what?

I'm not going to finish that corny gay ass statement and I know that Cartman would do the same thing.


End file.
